We’re anchored in a little unnamed cove off Blackfish Sound (aptly named). Last night Ann woke around three AM to a “grinding” sound on the side of the hull. She asked me if we might be aground, so I got up to check – no, we were still firmly anchored in 35 feet. There wasn’t a whisper of wind or a ripple of wave. Flat calm with a moon playing hide and and seek through the clouds. Then a huge, “WHOOSH”, not a hundred yards away. So loud it echoed on the trees along the cove. A whale spout! It must have decided to take a tiny detour in and around our cove. Maybe, just maybe, it decided Charisma could be its friend.

We’ll never know for sure, but the whale continued spouting outside our cove for the next fifteen minutes or so. Hoping Charisma would come out and play perhaps?